


Bruises

by JustAnAcePassingBy



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types
Genre: Comfort?, Couch Cuddles, Dorky Grimsley, Embarrassment, Just Grimsley being embarrassed self deprecated and sad, Litterally one swear word, M/M, Nightmares, Probably OCC, Size Difference, Size Kink, Smug Marshal if you squint, crying?, marshal is trying his best
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-02
Updated: 2020-05-02
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:36:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23972359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustAnAcePassingBy/pseuds/JustAnAcePassingBy
Summary: Grimsley wakes up on Marshals naked chest, panicks and gets more than he thought.Continuation of "Nap Time"
Relationships: Giima | Grimsley/Renbu | Marshal
Comments: 2
Kudos: 24





	Bruises

„Well shit. “

He had no idea what he was supposed to do in such a situation.

What situation you might ask? Well that was easy to answer, you see Grimsley, tired and weak was right now lying on the wide, warm and most notably _naked_ chest of Marshal pretending to still be asleep. Internally panicking while a big calloused hand was playing with his hair spikes, his face hiding in the aforementioned chest. He was desperately trying to keep his breathing even, hiding the fact that he was awake.

Interested how he wound up there?

Well here is the _short_ version.

Grimsley had had nightmares, not often enough to be worrisome but they where there. But at one point the nightmares began appearing more frequently, up to the point where he had nightmares every night for a whole month. After a whole month of nightmares, he decided to simply stop sleeping, his worn-out brain seeing no problem in his plan at the time. The chandelure of his colleague/friend Shauntal exposed him the very first night. The third day, him almost breaking his nose on the floor, only being saved thanks to Marshals fast reflexes, was the day Shauntal snapped and confronted him.

So, after confessing what was wrong, the three other elite four started to help him. But him refusing the methods that were most likely going to yield results was not helping. After seven days without sleep for Grimsley, the first to snap was Marshal, stepping up to actively do something. Confronting him on his battle platform, Marshal standing there with his meaty arms crossed over his impressive chest, making Grimsley wither under those unyielding black eyes. His sleep deprived brain mixed with physical exhaustion made fleeing seem like a superb idea. So that’s what he did.

But him being in the state that he was, it was pretty sad to look at. Trying a dash for the steps Marshal didn’t even move from his spot, he just reached out with one giant arm gripping him by the back of his neck. To make sure that the idiot didn’t hurt himself he calmly pinned him to the carpeted floor, flailing limbs all immobilized except for one arm. Grimsley, desperate at this point, shakily clawed with his free arm at the hand that was gripping him by the back of his neck. It was Marshal stating that they all were worried and wouldn’t just stand by and let their _friend_ destroy his health, that they all cared about him. That was all it took. It was enough to let the pressure building behind his eyes and emotion in his chest spill over. Marshal waited patiently until Grimsley calmed down, composed himself and let him go when he started to quietly tell him about the nightmares.

“They never were the same but one time I…I was in my childhood home again, at first nothing was wrong, everything was like it always has been. But then I would sit at the dinner table with them, we would talk about trivial stuff. Something like that usually almost never happened and after a while they would tell me how it was my fault, never the same thing always something different, my fault that they lost everything, the next time something different. Sometimes I would find the league in ruins, because I didn’t do anything, not one to play the hero like our current champ, happy to help if they could. Other times I would see you guys on the ground, beaten, hopeless, broken, now and then the gym leaders too. Looking at me like I was the one responsible, which I often was. Alder saying that he wasn’t even surprised, saw how cowardly I always acted. And I panicked because I knew he was righ- “

“Okay I think this was enough.”

Grimsley looked mildly surprised. Though he didn’t go into further details, it was enough to make his shaking even worse than it already was. Weak and deathly pale, he looked ready to fall asleep, about to break down. Sleep deprivation and emotional exhaustion finally hitting him full force. So, before he just fell asleep on the floor Marshal picked him up as if he weighed nothing, carrying him to his couch laying him down carefully and taking off his shoes. As he was about to turn around to go away, he felt something tugging at his pants. Freezing on the spot, he slowly turned around looking down, into glazed over blue eyes, teary and drooping, practically pleading him to stay. Marshal realised that Grimsley was willing to sleep if he were to stay and follow his request. The small “…please don’t leave.” sealed the deal.

After a bit of fumbling and manhandling, Grimsley ended up between his couch and Marshals chest, feeling warm and finally at peace. Secure. Marshal, knowing very well that the dark-haired man would start overthinking the moment he woke up laid an arm around his waist to keep him from fleeing later on. After one hour of just stupidly laying there he heard somebody coming up the stairs, thanking Arceus that it was Shauntal. Brushing of her question after she dumbly stared at them for a full minute, he asked for a book to occupy himself with.

He realised that he couldn’t read comfortably in this position and he started to overheat, body temperature running naturedly high, taking of his vest like top. Having shed the article of clothing he figured laying on his back with Grimsley on top would be the most comfortable position for both of them. Marshal could still hold onto him with one hand, book in the other hand. It also would allow him stretch out his legs and not have his head bent at such uncomfortable angle. He also took of the scarf of the smaller, to make sure not to accidently lay on his scarf and choke him. Long pale neck on full display.

That is how they ended up like this, a little over nine hours later, not like any of the two could know. Only remembering falling asleep squished between his couch and Marshal. His sleep muddled brain gradually picked up speed, trying to think of something to do. His brain was not cooperating. Reminding him how warm, almost like a space heater, Marshal felt underneath him, how incredible the sensation was to faceplant on his pecs. How unexpectedly sturdy and _thick_ his thighs were, hidden by his baggy pants. How much power lay dormant under the chocolate skin, how incredibly _big_ he was compared to Grimsley. How small he made him feel. Those fierce black eyes, making him weak in the knees.

_Those thighs could easily crush my- **NO** get your mind out of the gutter, don’t fantasize so shamelessly about your friend!_

He could feel his face heating up, mortified at his own thoughts. Yes, he found Marshal incredibly attractive, so what? Who wouldn’t? He had his preferences, thank you very much and Marshal just so happened to fit almost all them. But right now, it was not helping, making his flush climb up his ears and creep down his neck.

While Grimsley had his meltdown, marshal, fully aware that he was awake, was trying very hard not put him out of his misery, wanting to give him time to compose himself and not force him to confront the other. Instead he was observing the man in front of him, the long graceful limbs, pale skin, his piercing blue eyes, albeit closed. The eyebags obscuring long black lashes, thin angular face, sharp features, absent sly smile. The way he holds himself, speaking of an aristocratic upbringing, the unusual way his hair spikes. And the long graceful neck, always covered up, flawless white skin begging to be ruined. Bony body, so tiny and breakable compared to his own. _Weak_. **_Helpless_**.

Not wanting to continue _that_ train of thought, he decided to finally confront Grimsley. Very carefully letting his hand, that was previously playing with dark hair, slide down a thin nape, cradling his jaw, angling it up to make Grimsley face him. (Meanwhile Grimsley was doing his best not to outwardly freak out). Letting his other hand rest in between his sharp shoulder blades, suddenly pressing down, looking for a reaction on his face. Jerking, not prepared for the pressure, blue eyes flew open, and flushed cheeks turned crimson, Grimsley finds himself face to face with a very smug Marshal.

“You know, I probably wouldn’t even have noticed you being awake, not even a hitch in your breathing upon waking. Right breathing is very important in any martial arts form, A+ rating but that won’t help. If your whole body tenses so suddenly, when previously it was pretty limp. It’s quite obvious.” For emphasis he pressed down on the stiff muscles, making Grimsley groan. “Also, your pale complexion makes it incredibly easy to notice even the slightest flush.”

Grimsley was pretty sure he was about to spontaneously combust, face flaming, surely hotter than a magmars body temperature. His brain short circuited, he tried sitting up, to put a bit of distance between them. Putting his palms on the massive chest under him, he pushed himself into a sitting position, _a terrible idea really,_ the movement too fast, making him dizzy. He promptly crashed back down into Marshal, ready to catch him if he fell back- or forwards, who barely held back laughter. Would it have been anybody except Marshal, crashing into them would have hurt surely both of them. With Marshal he just kinda bounced slightly upon impacting his chest, pecs acting like pillows. Marshals chuckle barely held back.

Embarrassed, trying to redirect Marshal’s attention, he asks, “…how long was I out?”

Thick brows scrunching up, he answers with “Hhm I would say around nine hours. Only guessing though.”

Grimsley startled, confusion evident in his voice “Why didn’t you leave!? Or rather, why aren’t leaving right now?”

“Because I know if I leave and don’t talk to you, you are gonna act all weird and maybe start to panic.”

“I……I honestly can’t argue with that…”

Mouth pressed into a thin line, Grimsley looked away from him. Hands curled into small fists on Marshals’ pecs, his body rigid, strung tighter than a rubber band. Marshal, as unafraid of overstepping boundaries as ever, lightly gripped bony shoulders to get his attention, dug his fingers into knotted muscles. Caught off guard, Grimsley’s form collapsed on Marshal, sighing in bliss. Drifting very close to sleep he barely registers big hands roaming over a slender back, working out knots and tight spots, he was about to slip into slumber. Only a small thought that was nagging at the back of his head hit him full force. Eyes wide open, he shot up, back ramrod straight, full-blown panic obvious on his face, he borderline yelled “what about the challengers!?” Apparently not having learnt from the first time, a wave of dizziness slammed into him, his momentum making him start to fall backwards.

This time Marshal shot up into a sitting position, gripping at the small of his back and the back of his head, pressing him to his torso, making sure he stayed vertical. „are you an idiot? There is a reason why you sit up slowly.” Groaning, the dark haired pressed his head into Marshal’s front, eyes pinched shut tightly, feeling like he might die.everything was spinning, the world tilting. They remained in that position for several minutes before a small “thanks” left pale lips. “It’s fine.” After a moment of consideration, he continued “and to answer your question, the new champ found out about what has been going on and told us to relax for the rest of the week. They said that it was actually giving them the opportunity to attend to non-league related matters, which they previously were to busy to take care of. Oh, and they said to tell you that they wish you well.”

The already slumped shoulders pulled up to his ears, making him seem smaller than he was, leaning into the darker man wrapping thin arms around a wide back, nestling into him. And a barely audible “sorry”. Not knowing what to say, Marshal started to rub his back in small circles, combing trough his hair with thick careful fingers. He suddenly remembered what Grimsley told him about his nightmares, wondering if he really believed that the others thought like that about him. Maybe they made him feel uncomfortable, did things that that made him nervous, left out or something similar? Made him feel like they didn’t care about him, waiting for an opportunity to abandon him. He should talk with him about it and maybe tell the others to-

“Say, where did my scarf go?”

Ripped from his thoughts, he craned his neck to look down “Oh right… I took it off so I wouldn’t accidentally lay on it and choke you.”

“Ah I see… also why aren’t you wearing the abomination you like to call a top?” chuckling, head lightly tilting.

Raising a brow at the blatant disrespect of how he dressed, he answered “I was hot.”

Scoffing, Grimsley rolled his eyes, looking deadpan to the side “Of course you are but that has nothing to do with what I asked you abou- “

It was funny how a face could morph into completely different emotions in a moment’s notice. Grimsley realized his slip up immediately, his face showing how horrified he was. Making it pretty clear to anybody who has spoken to him for more than a few minutes, that the filter between his mouth and brain was not cooperating. Marshal, aware that the pale man sitting in his lap, tiny and weak, was close to bolting. Not wanting to make him feel like prey, he made it seem like he didn’t pay his comment any mind, clarified “no I mean my body temperature was running high and I started to overheat.” Grimsley only nodded in acknowledgement, thankful he didn’t say anything about his comment.

Wanting to take the attention off the blue-eyed man somewhere else he asked “Soooo I reckon you must be hungry by now, right?”

“not really, actua-“

Fixing him with his black eyes, he asked” when was the last time you ate?”

“…………”

“That’s what I thought, so anything in particular you want to eat?”

Pale lips opened, only to be closed again. Guilty blue eyes shifted away from the chocolate skinned man in front of him, not wanting to ask for things. In his mind, he believed himself to be an inconvenience when asking for things, likely caused by how he grew up. Parents not giving him nearly enough attention, no credit for accomplishments and made him feel guilty when asking for anything. There are too many examples and reasons to name all of them right now.

After he didn’t give him an answer, Marshal let out a loud sigh, rubbing the bridge of his nose, eyebrows pinched together. “You know, if you don’t tell us what’s going on in this head of yours, it won’t bring you far, we will never be able to adjust our behaviour around you. We won’t know if we overstepped boundaries, made you uncomfortable or you don’t want something. You’ll have to clearly tell us, we can’t read minds,” he stopped thinking for a moment “no wait scratch that I wouldn’t be surprised if Caitlin could read minds. Anyway, you are well known for your silver tongue, so just use it for once.”

“……I don’t really know what I want.” He admitted it very quietly under his breath.

Marshal looking at him contemplated for a minute, nodding afterwards to himself “You need protein and fat in you. Eggs and bacon.” Looking at Grimsley his eyes silently dared him to disagree. After a moment dark spiked hair bounced slightly as the eccentric male nodded.

“Good, stay here and I’ll make food.”

It was sheer luck that the taller looked down and saw the desperate and hurt face of the dark elite, _panicked_ he realised, that was gone a moment later. If he had to guess he would say the frail man in front of him was afraid of being left, so he thought about how he could make him understand that he _was_ coming back. It also only crossed his mind that the man in front of him could also walk away, make a run for it, scared of being hurt. So, he asked himself what could make it clear that he _wasn’t_ leaving and would make sure that Grimsley _stayed_.

That’s when he had an idea “Hey, do you remember what I told you about talking to us?”

Grimsley, starting to put up his walls again, snapped at him “Of course I do! Communicate with you when I want you to understand something, my attention span is bigger than three minutes, you know?” trying to hide his hurt behind anger. Having only concentrated on his anger, he didn’t notice the big hands that were previously resting on equally big knees, coming up. Marshal assured that Grimsley had that information in mind, continued.

Not paying attention to what Marshal was doing, he froze when he felt a hand at his left shoulder and the back of his head, carefully pulling them apart until his long throat was on full display. Leaning in to the point where his lips were gently brushing over a pulse point. Grimsley was shocked into unmoving silence, trying to comprehend what was happening.” …do you remember what I told you…” he realised that Marshal wanted him to understand that he would stop if he protested, that he should voice it if he didn’t want him to continue. To assure him. Funny enough, he just knew that if Marshal wanted to, he could forcefully keep him in this position, but he was sure that if he were to even lightly push him away, he would let go of him. It was hard to explain, he knew that Marshals grip was careful, light enough to pull away the second he met resistance.

Being so lost in thought, he jolted violently when a wet, hot tongue started lapping at the place just a bit lower than where his ear and jaw met. Overwhelmed, he hooked his legs, that were already parted by a big torso, together behind a massive back, grounding himself. Bony hands gripped onto muscular biceps, where normally blue bands rested, hands only spanning over a half of the limb. It felt like little shocks were travelling through his body from everywhere teeth happened to catch at his sensitive skin. Grimsleys usually flat and quiet breaths started to pick up volume. Flushing from the way he reacted, he pressed his throat closer to the tongue, offering it up. What he didn’t expect were teeth biting into his skin.

“Ah- “his hands scrabbled at giant shoulders as Marshal started to _suck._ Digging his nails into the shoulders, his eyes snapped shut and with trembling legs he started to outright _pant_ at the biggers ministrations. He didn’t know if he should push him away or pull him closer, head spinning, face burning crimson. Overwhelmed tears forming at the corners of his eyes, when the sucking didn’t stop. He outright screeched when teeth clamped down harder and a tongue pressed into the abused skin. His body locked up, only to start shaking violently the next moment.

A moment later the teeth released his trapped skin, tongue gliding soothingly over the abused skin. Placing a light apologetic kiss over the tortured patch of skin, he slowly began to leave more smaller marks on the throat before him, bruising even easier than expected. After that he coaxed the hands digging into his shoulders of off them. Managing that, he reached his hands behind his back, gripping bony ankles and unhooking them. A moment of manhandling the smaller, he managed to lift him out of his lap and onto the couch. Standing up after hours of lying on this cramped couch felt heavenly, finally able to stretch and move freely.

Glazed over blue eyes focused on the muscles flexing under the chocolate skin, openly staring.

When he was dressed again, he reached for the yellow scarf, tying it around one of his upper arms, owner of said scarf not even reacting to his scarf being taken away.

Stepping closer to the dazed form of his fellow elite, he reached his left hand out, letting it curl around the marked neck. Pressing his thumb slightly to the bruise already darkening, seemed to do the trick. Snapping out of his daze, blue eyes stared up at him, confused, shocked, and a million different emotion reflecting in them. Having his attention, he lightly tapped over the bruise, eliciting a hiss, he told him “That right here is my promise to come back, and a measure to keep you in here” During his statement, his black eyes stared into sharp blue ones.

Turning around, the yellow scarf giving his movement a bit of flourish, he strode towards the stairs “considering you have no way to cover up that _big_ and very _dark_ bruise, begging for attention on your throat. Knowing you, you would rather die than have someone see you like this.”

Blue eyes widened comically, face flaming hot, only now really comprehending what had happened.

” No-wait a moment-just-MARSHAL!!!”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm so done  
> I thought it wouldn't even nearly be as long as the first one  
> WRONG  
> Also I'm horrible when it comes to nightmares, I just put the only idea I had into it  
> Also also, did i make it horny? possible  
> Did i plan to? no  
> Do I regret it? a little tiny bit  
> PS english is not my first language so mistakes are inevitable


End file.
